War and Peace
by Paradox Siren
Summary: RemusCharlie: Remus and Charlie attempt to mend their relationship which has been strained due to long absenses. SLASH. You have been warned. Rated M for brief L and SC. One Shot.


To say that the air was thick with tension would be a little too flowery a phrase. It was awkward. Remus sat silently in a leather armchair, a cup of hot tea steaming on the small table to his right. He was reading a worn copy of War and Peace.

Charlie, however, was stretched out on the sofa not three feet from Remus. There was a cup of very strong, nay _thick_, coffee in his right hand, and the most recent edition of _Dragons Monthly_ (or some other such title) in his left. Neither had said a word since Charlie had arrived at Remus' door. And they had been sitting like that for closing in on an hour and a half. Or so Charlie had deducted from a quick glance at his watch.

"So... how have things been?" Charlie asked the cover of War and Peace. Remus' eyes never left the pages that were only inches from his face.

"Boring."

"God damn it, Remus, at least give me more than one word."

"Very boring."

Charlie exhaled sharply.

"How's Romania?" The question came five minutes later.

"Boring."

Remus took his eyes off the book for the first time and his gaze rested heavily upon Charlie, who flinched slightly. Remus raised an eyebrow and inquired further without needing words.

"That good, huh?"

"Yeah, well, things have been really slow lately. I haven't even been attacked in three weeks. Not since that Romanian Longhorn tried to impale me for getting too close to her nest."

"Pity."

"Hey, I'm being serious. There isn't a single bruise on my body..."

"I'm not sure I believe you," Remus replied darkly, with an audible smirk. Remus was one of the only people Charlie had ever known who could infuriate him so easily.

Charlie glared half-heartedly at Remus. It had been over a month since they had seen each other and neither seemed to have handled the distance well. Not that either was at fault: they each had their work, dangerous work, and that left little time for their relationship. And Remus' snark didn't seem to be helping salvage any of it, Charlie mused. But, he loved that about Remus; the fact that he wasn't a softie, or an invalid, despite what society would have him believe; the fact that he was strong and intelligent and, well, _snarky_ made him incredibly attractive. Besides, he supposed, it would take a dangerous creature to love someone whose life revolved around dragons.

So, seeing as Remus wasn't feeling very conversational, Charlie took it upon himself to improve the situation.

He set down his magazine and his empty cup of coffee, stood up, and took one lengthy stride toward Remus. Next, he took hold of the book in Remus' hands, pulled it gently out of his grasp, put the book mark in place, and set the book down. Remus was watching him closely through squinted eyes.

Charlie smirked back at him and took hold of the bottom hem of his shirt. With one swift motion his shirt was off and falling into a pile on the floor.

"Are you trying to seduce me, Weasley?"

"Not at all," Charlie replied. "I want you to see if I have any bruises. You didn't seem to believe I was without."

Remus smirked but there was no mistaking the twinkle in his eyes when he motioned for Charlie to turn around and face away from him. "All right," he voiced. All at once Charlie felt as though Remus had more than just two hands. It seemed as though he could explore every inch of his back in a matter of seconds.

In what flashed by liked seconds, but was really many minutes, the rest of Charlie's clothes had joined his shirt in a pile on the floor, and Remus' were following quickly. Time became nothing more than a figure of speech and it flew on by with about as much thought. The coffee table was shoved aside to reveal the rug, Remus' small tea stand was knocked over by a flailing foot, the cheap mug sent shattering in the other direction. Everything was a blur of skin and hair, rough and smooth, tan and pale, polar opposites colliding and connecting and joining as one to create something more beautiful than could ever be described in words. It can only be felt.

And in that chaotic, sensual, poetic moment, they both remembered why they put up with each other for all this time. And neither felt bored any longer.


End file.
